


Exit Strategy

by glorious_spoon



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Injury, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 12:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13434687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: Trapped in a palace under siege, Nebula is quite sure she doesn't need any help. Gamora begs to differ.





	Exit Strategy

**Author's Note:**

> Posting a handful of Tumblr prompt-ficlets here tonight so I don't lose them. Originally posted [here](http://glorious-spoon.tumblr.com/post/169887718956/could-you-write-gamora-nebula-and-a-moments).

“This changes nothing,” Nebula informed her coldly, slamming a freshly charged pack into her rifle. Outside, there was still the sound of screaming, gunfire in the distance, but the royal bedchambers were a well-guarded, well-hidden pocket of silence. If they wanted, they could probably wait out the massacre here until the Quadrant broke through to rescue them. That was certainly what Peter would have wanted her to do. If she were alone, she might have considered it.

She was not alone, though. And her sister would never be content to quietly wait for rescue. Gamora held out a hand for the remaining power pack, and Nebula slapped it into her palm without hesitation. “Naturally.”

“I did not ask for your help. I don’t need it.”

“Of course not,” Gamora said. Her right shoulder had stopped bleeding, but it would still take some time for the skin and muscle to knit itself back together. Time she suspected they did not have. No matter. She was still deadly with one good arm. Deadlier than the late and unlamented emperor’s guards, or at least she hoped so. “I assume you have your own exit plan.”

Nebula’s chin jutted out truculently, in a way that made her look eerily like the child she hadn’t been in decades. They both knew that any exit plan she’d had in place had been shattered by revolt that had followed the emperor’s assassination at a state dinner yesterday. “Yes. I don’t need your help.”

“The bridges?” The sky bridges had been some of the first casualties, after the rebels set charges at the bases to cut off access to the palace. Nebula didn’t necessarily know that, though. She’d already been inside by then, and Gamora knew her sister: she knew that the ruthless single-mindedness that was Nebula’s greatest asset was also her greatest flaw. She would not have thought to check her exit. That sort of planning had always been Gamora’s job.

“None of your business.”

“They’re gone,” Gamora said, and risked setting a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Nebula went grindingly tense beneath her fingers, but did not strike her. “Nebula, they’re gone.”

“I’ll find a different way.”

“Come with me. My friends are coming; we can get you out of here.”

“I do not _need_ —”

“You are my sister,” Gamora interrupted. The gunfire was getting closer. They were running out of time. “I will not leave you to die. Come with me. Please.”

Nebula was silent for a long moment, staring at her. Then she stood, shouldering her gun, and reached down to give Gamora a hand up. She smiled, tentative and careful and just a little _off_ , the way Nebula’s smiles always were. She hadn’t had much practice at it. “Fine. Shall we?”

Something large rammed the door, bowing the metal inward. Gamora shouldered her gun as well, feeling her lips split into a smile. “Yes. Let’s.”


End file.
